


A Dare, A Piercing and Two Boys in Love

by gothyringwald



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Billy Hargrove, Exhibitionism, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Friends to Lovers, Genital Piercing, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Mirror Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Piercings, Piercings, Self-Discovery, Truth or Dare, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23256673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothyringwald/pseuds/gothyringwald
Summary: A dare, a piercing and a lot of sexual tension. AKA the one where Billy dares Steve to get his dick pierced and Steve is desperate enough to impress Billy that he goes through with it. But he never thought he’d actuallylikeit.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 70
Kudos: 596





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A huge shout-out to two friends who read this over and encouraged me along the way! I want to stay as anonymous as possible so I won’t name them other than to credit them as S & G and hope they know who they are <3333
> 
> Also, I started this in the middle of October so it’s been a long road getting here haha XD
> 
> (Tags for fic as a whole—some of the tags are only relevant for part two)

‘I dare you,’ Steve says, twirling a bottle cap over his fingers, passing it between each knuckle, ‘to piss off the balcony.’ He’s flushed and giddy with alcohol, a small smile tilting his lips. Bedsprings squeak as he shifts to look over at Billy.

Billy snorts from his own bed and pushes himself up, shaking his head. The lamp on the table between their beds casts strange shadows on his face as he gazes down at Steve, levelling him with a look that might say, ‘Is that all you’ve got?’ before he steps onto Steve’s bed and walks across it, then jumps down onto the floor.

Crisp night air flows in when Billy throws the doors open and steps out onto the balcony of their hotel room. They’d driven up to Chicago because there was a band playing that Billy wanted to see—Steve already can’t remember the name—and Steve was bored, didn’t want to spend Friday night on his own.

Steve rolls onto his side, bottle cap forgotten, and watches as Billy unbuckles his belt, unzips his fly. Heat gathers under Steve’s jaw, thick in his throat; he shifts in place.

From this angle, Steve can’t see much—Billy’s facing out toward the city, the sound of cars filtering up from the street below, a siren wailing in the distance—but moonlight catches on the stream of piss flowing between the triangle of Billy’s legs, and through the balcony rails.

Billy throws a wink at Steve over his shoulder, then shakes himself and tucks his dick back into his briefs. He’s zipping his jeans up as he comes inside, but leaves his belt undone.

‘I can’t believe you did that.’ Steve swallows thickly when he notices Billy’s shirt has ridden up, exposing a patch of his stomach. He shakes his head, looks up at Billy as he walks back across Steve’s bed, socked feet sinking into the mattress. ‘What if someone was down there?’

Billy shrugs, flops back on his bed. ‘Then they just got lucky.’

‘You’re twisted.’ Steve screws his nose up.

Billy grins, tongue between his teeth.

‘That was not a compliment.’

‘Whatever.’ Billy takes a swig of his beer, looks at Steve with his head tilted back. ‘Anyway, it’s your turn.’ A pink tongue darts out to wet pinker lips. ‘Truth or dare?’

Steve hasn’t taken a dare for a while, because Billy’s last dare had been to run down the hall and knock on everyone’s doors. It was fun, sure, but Steve doesn’t want to get kicked out and spend the rest of their time in Chicago sleeping in his car. But Billy’s ‘Truths’ have been getting…weird—uncomfortable—so he says, ‘Dare.’

Billy’s eyes light up and Steve’s stomach sinks. He barely hesitates, like he’s been thinking of this since at least Steve’s last dare, and says, ‘I dare you to get your dick pierced.’

There’s a pathetic, strangled noise that Steve realises has come from him. Beer dribbles down his chin and his eyes water as the beer that managed to stay in his mouth ends up sucked into his windpipe. ‘What?’ He thumps his chest, wheezes.

‘I dare you to get your dick pierced.’

‘That’s not—’ Steve blinks. ‘That’s not a thing.’

Billy gives Steve a look like he’s an idiot. ‘What do you mean that’s not a thing?’

‘No one does…that.’ Do they? Jesus.

‘Yeah, they do.’ The TV chatters in the background, light flickering over the room. ‘I’ve seen pictures.’

‘No, you haven’t.’ At Billy’s nod, Steve asks, ‘Where?’

‘The place I got my nipples pierced.’

‘You have your nipples pierced?’ Blood roars in Steve’s ears and heat floods him. Inexplicable. ‘Show me.’

Billy rolls his eyes but he swings his legs over the side of the bed and lifts up his shirt.

And, sure enough, silver glints on Billy’s chest. Tiny balls sitting snugly either side of his nipples.

It’s…hot. Like, really fucking hot. Steve didn’t even know people did this and now it’s his new favourite thing. 

Steve presses his lips together. ‘They’re not…real.’ Before he can think better of it, he’s reaching out, thumb brushing Billy’s chest, and grasping one of the silver balls. He tugs once, twice. It’s definitely real.

‘ _Dude_.’ Billy smacks Steve’s hand and pulls his shirt back down. He takes a long pull of his beer, the faintest tinge of pink rising to his cheeks in the hotel’s soft light.

Steve flushes. ‘Just checking.’ He clears his throat. ‘I still don’t believe guys do that’—he waves his hand toward Billy’s chest—‘to their junk.’

‘Why would I dare you to do it if they didn’t?’

‘I don’t know. To make me look stupid?’

Billy snorts. Again. ‘I don’t have to try that hard.’

‘Fuck you.’ Steve throws a pillow at Billy, but he easily dodges it. It bounces on Billy’s bed and lands the other side.

‘I think,’ Billy says, drawing out the words, ‘that you’re just too chicken.’

A spark of irritation flickers in Steve’s chest. ‘I’m not chicken.’

‘Then prove it.’

‘No way!’ Steve instinctively presses his legs together. ‘That’s just fucking crazy.’

‘Chicken,’ Billy says, goading.

‘I’m not.’

And then Billy starts clucking. And flapping his arms. It’s fucking obnoxious and immature but—

‘Fine!’ Steve throws his hands up. ‘I’ll do it.’

‘Great,’ Billy says, standing up and grabbing his jacket like he hadn’t just been acting like a fucking chicken, ‘let’s go.’

‘What? Where?’

‘The place I got my nipples done is up here.’ Billy shrugs his jacket on, straightening the collar. ‘They should still be open so you can do your dare, right now.’ At Steve’s obvious hesitance, Billy adds, ‘That is if you’re not too _chicken_ ,’ and gives another little cluck.

Steve’s eyes narrow. ‘Oh, bring it fucking on, Hargrove.’ He grabs his own jacket then shoulders past Billy and out the door.

His heart is racing and he feels hot all over but he’s not backing down. Steve Harrington does not back down from a dare.

—

Maybe Steve Harrington can back down from a dare, just this once.

Steve swallows thickly as Billy nudges him further inside the shop. It’s down a set of stairs, small but clean. There’s a guy behind the counter who looks…well, normal. Not what Steve expected.

A song with jangling guitar and a screaming singer plays faintly from somewhere. 

The guy behind the counter looks up, hair flopping into his face. ‘Need any help?’ He pushes his hair back. His ears are pierced and there’s a tattoo peeking from under the cuff of his shirt.

Steve opens and closes his mouth. His heart is still pounding and the lingering Dutch courage from the beers he’d downed playing truth or dare fades with every passing second.

It’s Billy who breaks the silence, nudging Steve in the side with his elbow and saying, ‘My friend here wants to get his dick pierced.’

Steve groans.

‘That so?’ the guy says, lips quirking. He looks Steve over, one brow raised.

‘Yeah,’ Steve says.

The guy tilts his head. ‘You don’t sound so sure.’

Steve isn’t. But he looks at Billy, who’s got this smug look on his face, and he clenches his hands at his sides. ‘I’m sure.’

‘You over 18?’

Steve nods. He doesn’t trust his voice, right now.

‘Cool,’ the guy says, moving around the counter. He’s wearing a yellow button-down shirt, sleeves cuffed, and black jeans with holes in the knees. ‘You can come through, now.’

‘Oh.’ Steve’s ears ring. ‘I don’t need to make an appointment? You know, for another time?’

Beside Steve, Billy makes a sound that’s something like a cluck. Steve ignores him.

The guy smiles and shakes his head.

‘OK,’ Steve says, ‘that’s great,’ and he follows the guy toward a curtain. Billy tails behind him, boots heavy on the floorboards. Steve turns to him. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

‘Want to make sure you go through with it.’

The guy pauses by the curtain, one hand pushing it back. ‘Your boyfriend can come in if he wants.’

Heat washes through Steve at Billy being called his _boyfriend_. 

Why would the guy think— 

Do they _look_ like—

He glances at Billy to gauge his reaction but his face is frustratingly blank. Only one brow quirked, saying something Steve can’t decipher. 

‘No,’ Steve says, shaking his head, ‘I wanna do it alone.’

‘Whatever you say,’ the guy says.

Steve turns to Billy. ‘Wait out here,’ he says, then follows the guy behind the curtain.

—

The guy—Nick—asks Steve what he wants, exactly, and it leaves Steve floundering.

‘I don’t…’ Steve’s face is so hot and his hands are sweaty and, fuck, he feels like an idiot. ‘I mean, I want…you know?’

Nick smiles and says, ‘Sure, honey, but there are different kinds of piercings.’

‘Right.’

‘You sure you wanna do this? Not trying to impress your boy out there?’ Nick jerks his head toward where Billy is, presumably, waiting somewhere beyond the curtain. When Steve shakes his head—a lie in one simple gesture—he says, ‘OK, well, how about I show you some pictures and you tell me what you like.’

‘Pictures.’

Nick goes to a small chest of drawers and brings out a photo album. He sets it, opened, on top of the drawers and gestures to Steve.

Steve shuffles over and…oh wow. There are pages _full_ of polaroids. Lots of different body parts. Lots of dicks. All pierced. His mouth goes dry. He’d thought it would look fucked up or disgusting or something but…it really doesn’t. Some are alarming, sure, and kind of extreme and, fuck, it must be uncomfortable to have all that metal in your dick. But some are _hot_.

‘See anything you like?’

Steve flushes. There’s plenty but— He gives a helpless little shrug.

‘OK, most guys go for a Prince Albert.’ When Steve gapes at him, Nick points to a polaroid of a half-hard dick with a ring through the head. ‘It’s the simplest, heals quicker than most, and it feels good for you and your partner.’

‘Feels good?’

‘Yeah, when you’re…in bed.’ Nick shoots him a wink. ‘To put it delicately.’

‘Oh.’ _Oh_. So that’s why they do it. ‘Um. Cool.’ Steve wipes his hands on his jeans. ‘That sounds…fine.’

Nick gives him an amused smile and says, ‘Don’t worry, sugar, most guys are nervous. It’s a pretty big thing to do.’

‘I guess so.’

‘So you wanna go with the Prince Albert?’

‘Yes?’ Shit. That wasn’t meant to be a question. 

This is crazy and…it’s _crazy_. But Steve thinks about the amount of shit Billy will give him if he welches, about how Billy is _always_ giving him shit for turning into a square, about how Steve, despite how stupid he knows it is, just wants Billy to think he’s cool. And there’s something else, besides, some previously unknown desire, something he can’t quite articulate, that steels him with determination. 

‘Yes,’ he says, ‘I do.’

‘Right on.’ Nick nods toward what looks like a doctor’s examination table. ‘Why don’t you hop on up, then?’

Steve nods and goes over. He pulls himself onto the bench, feet swinging, heart pounding. 

‘OK, before we start, I have to tell you a few things…’

There’s a ringing in Steve’s ears as he listens to Nick tell him how long it will take to heal, about the aftercare, suggesting which jewellery is best, but when he asks, ‘You still good to do this,’ Steve says, ‘Yeah, definitely,’ and it doesn’t feel like a bluff.

‘Then you’re gonna have to take your pants off.’

‘Oh, yeah. Of course.’ Of _course_ he has to take his pants off. He’s so fucking stupid. He hops down and undoes his belt and jeans with fumbling hands. It strikes him that Nick is the first guy to see him undress in a private setting—undressing in the locker room, being naked in the showers wasn’t the same.

And, even though Nick is good looking, it’s not like undressing in front of his girlfriends.

And, despite the faint scent of antiseptic in the air, it’s not like undressing at the doctor’s either. 

Steve doesn’t know what it’s like. 

He clears his throat and shoves his jeans down.

‘And, uh.’ Nick gestures to Steve’s briefs. 

The most intense heat floods Steve, then, but he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and pushes them down, not looking at Nick. He hopes he doesn’t get a fucking hard-on, or something, but then he’s not sure he could get hard, now, with the thought of what’s going to happen.

‘This _will_ hurt,’ Nick says, instructing Steve to lie down, ‘but it’ll be over before you know it.’ He glances up at Steve. ‘You probably don’t want to look, though.’

Steve nods. Frowns. Shakes his head. 

Nick huffs out a laugh and says, ‘OK, here we go.’ 

The astringent scent of antiseptic floods Steve as Nick cleans him, cold against his hot skin; Steve curls his hands over the side of the bench, tilts his head back so he won’t look.

Nick measures him for the jewellery, his touch strange and light, but Steve barely hears his explanation above his roaring blood. And then there is the strange feeling of something being pushed into his dick—the receiving tube Nick says—and a moment of sharp, breathtaking pain. 

Steve’s eyes water and his pulse stutters. It’s the worst pain he’s felt in his _life_ and then—

It’s over. 

Steve waits for more pain but Nick says, ‘All done,’ and Steve looks back down.

There’s a shiny new silver bar through the head of his dick, a silver ball each end keeping it in place. 

Heat shoots through Steve and his mouth goes dry. He hadn’t really thought about what _he’d_ look like with his dick pierced, but now—

‘Like it?’ Nick asks. 

‘Um’—Steve swallows thickly—‘yeah. Yeah, I do.’

—

They walk back to the hotel in silence. Steve can’t stop thinking about his dick and how the new piercing rubs uncomfortably against his jeans, even through his briefs and the bandage. It throbs, a dull ache, and feels hot. But Nick had said that was normal. It would take a month, maybe two, to heal, so long as Steve cleans it properly and looks after it.

Steve doesn’t want to think about it, right now.

He’s so distracted he doesn’t stop to think why Billy—who’s usually a fucking motormouth—is silent too as he walks beside Steve, smoking one cigarette after another. Their hands sometimes brush as they walk and Steve ends up wrapping his arms around his stomach.

When they get back to the room, Billy is back to his usual self. ‘OK,’ he says, shutting the door behind Steve, ‘show me.’

Steve stops, wheels around. ‘Show you what?’

‘I want proof that you went through with it,’ Billy says, with a casual wave of his hand toward Steve’s crotch.

It takes a moment for Steve to process what Billy is asking and when he does he flushes, breath catching. ‘Are you asking me to show you my dick?’

‘What’—Billy shrugs—‘not like I haven’t seen it before.’

He must mean in the showers at school, because that’s the only time Steve has been naked near Billy. And, OK, everyone sneaked looks, right? It’s not like the other guys didn’t all know that, that they were always sizing each other up. Comparing. But unless you were making fun of someone, you never admitted it.

Steve shakes his head. ‘I’m not showing you my dick, you pervert.’

‘Don’t flatter yourself, Harrington.’ Billy snorts but, and maybe it’s a trick of the light, Steve thinks there is a faint blush on his cheeks. ‘Like I said, I want proof. Want to make sure you didn’t chicken out.’

‘What do you think I was doing in there all that time?’ Steve blinks. ‘What do you think I _paid_ him for?’

‘I don’t know, maybe he gave you a handjob.’

‘Fuck off,’ Steve murmurs, and then adds, ‘I need to piss,’ moving toward the bathroom. But Billy blocks the door, one hand propped on the frame. Steve huffs. He’s not in the mood for Billy’s shit. ‘Get out of my way.’

Billy shakes his head, tongue between his teeth.

‘Oh my god.’ Steve tilts his head back, hands on his hips. They’re trembling, but he ignores it. ‘I’m not showing you my dick, OK? You’ll have to take my word for it.’

There’s a moment where Steve thinks that Billy will stand his ground, keep demanding Steve show him proof of the dare, but he only rolls his eyes and moves aside. ‘You’re such a fucking prude, sometimes, you know?’

Steve shuts the door in Billy’s face. He rests his forehead against it a moment then moves over to the toilet. He stares down at it, lips pressed together. He really does need to piss but Nick had said that pissing would be weird—different—after.

But it’s not like he can hold it in forever so he murmurs, ‘Here goes,’ and undoes his jeans.

It turns out not to be as difficult as he’d thought. A little weird, yeah, and it _stings_ , but at least he doesn’t piss on himself. 

And the sight of the silver bar glinting in the flickering light of the motel’s bathroom makes Steve’s heart beat faster than he thinks it should. 

Something like arousal hums beneath his skin, softly flows down his spine. Steve pushes it away and tucks himself back into his briefs, ignoring the throb of his dick.

When he goes back into the main room, Billy is in bed, headphones on, drumming his fingers on a red walkman.

Steve gets into his own bed, shifting to try to find a comfortable position. It takes longer than usual because every movement jostles his dick and…fuck. He’s an idiot. He can’t believe he let Billy talk him into this. 

All because he didn’t want to look like a chicken, because he wanted Billy to think he’s cool.

Fucking hell.

But then he remembers how it had looked, how the sight of his newly pierced dick had made his pulse quicken, and deep down it doesn’t feel stupid at all.

—

They drive back to Hawkins the next afternoon and things go back to normal. Steve had thought that it would feel different, that Billy might look at him differently—not only because of the piercing but because of how Nick had mistaken Billy for Steve’s boyfriend.

But the weeks go by and the only difference is that Steve has a piece of metal in his dick.

Billy doesn’t ask to see it again.

—

Steve isn’t thinking when he does it. He just twists the bar, because he has to make sure it’s clean. He’s been doing it for weeks and it’s almost like habit now. But where, before, it had been tinged with pain and so he’d ignored anything else, now it—

Holy shit.

Now it feels incredible. Indescribable.

Almost like he’s being touched from the inside, which he is. There’s something moving around inside his dick and it’s weird but it’s good. So. Fucking—

His knees nearly give way and he braces himself with one hand on the sink. He’s breathless, so hard, already, and dripping.

‘Fuck,’ he breathes out, and moves the bar again. Twisting it, sliding it back and forth as much as he can.

He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, bites down hard, because there’s a moan threatening to spill from deep inside him, and he’s not usually loud, but it’s so hard to keep quiet because it feels so _good_ he might cry. 

But it’s not just how it feels. That’s only part of it. He hadn’t thought much about how it looked after that first night, about how much he’d liked how it had looked, because it felt shameful to feel so turned on by looking at his own dick. But he does like it. A lot.

Oh. 

He thumbs the bar, feels it all the way to his toes, in his fucking teeth, and he clamps his jaw against another moan. He imagines what people would think if they knew that he had his dick pierced.

A low moan works its way out of him and he speeds his hand up, fingers catching on the silver ball under his dick, a wave of heat washing through him.

It’s not long before he’s on the edge, so close to tipping over; he glances up, catches sight of himself in the mirror. He can only see to his shoulders, but he’s flushed, lip sucked between his teeth, eyes glassy. He looks wrecked. He wishes he could see more.

It’s that thought, the thought of watching himself, that brings him right to the brink and with a flick of the bar he’s coming. Way too quick and way harder than he probably ever has.

It leaves him gasping, trembling all over. Holy shit.

He looks up and he’s smiling.

Taking Billy’s dare is definitely the best thing he has ever done.

—

It’s like he’s a kid just discovering the joys of jerking off again. He can’t stop. He doesn’t _want_ to stop. He jerks off any chance he gets.

It’s been ages since he last got laid and he doesn’t even care. He’s got his right hand and he becomes very, very well acquainted with it.

Time passes in a blur of glinting metal and one electric orgasm after another.

Steve hasn’t felt this good in longer than he can remember.

—

There’s a mirror at the end of Steve’s bed, just to the left of his door. He’d brought it up to his room after he was rooting around the basement, earlier, looking for…something. Nothing important.

The mirror had caught his eye, light glinting in the corner of his vision, and he’d turned and come face to face with himself. It had sparked something, the memory of his reflection in the bathroom mirror when he’d jerked off the other day. How he’d wished he could see more.

Heat had shot through him at the memory, almost painful, but he couldn’t tell if it was shame or arousal. Maybe both.

Before he could think, he’d reached into his jeans, watching the reflection of his hand sink below his waistband. His fingers had just dipped into his briefs and he was already hard and—

His mom called down and shame flushed through him. He’d snatched his hand out of his jeans and gone upstairs. But later he went back, brought the mirror to his room.

And now he’s standing in front of it again, looking at himself. Like before, he doesn’t think, just opens his jeans and pushes them down. Draws his dick out of his briefs.

The silver barbell glints in the head of his dick, secured by the two silver balls. Seeing it makes Steve hard, almost instantly. It always does.

‘Fuck.’

He drags his knuckles along the length of his cock, makes a loose fist, running his hand up and down. Presses the bar with his thumb. It doesn’t move much, back and forth, but he can twist it, so he does. Electricity shoots down his spine, arrowing to his groin, making his head spin.

He wonders if it would feel even better with someone else doing it and the image of a large hand wearing a silver ring flashes in his mind.

Heat bolts through him, leaving him gasping. Now that the image is in his head, he can’t get it out. Not that he wants to.

He braces one hand on the side of the mirror, the other moving over his dick, as he watches himself. If he wasn’t so turned on, brain foggy with it, maybe he’d feel shame at how hot it is to watch himself like this. But all he feels is fucking awesome.

When he looks up and catches his own gaze, he comes hard, shooting over his hand, splashing onto the mirror. 

His chest heaves as he pants, mouth tilted in a crooked smile.

Nick had said it would feel good, but Steve had no idea it would feel _this_ good. He could never have imagined that having his dick pierced would be this…hot. That it would make _him_ feel hot. Sexy. In a way he’s never felt before. It’s not like he hasn’t known he’s attractive but this is different.

And there’s a thrill, too, knowing that he has this secret that no one would even _guess_. He’s walking around with a fucking piece of metal in his dick and no one knows.

Except Billy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :) The second part will be up same time next week!
> 
> Some notes (no links because I’m tired but if anyone wants them, I can add them in):
> 
> I did a bunch of research on piercings but still hand waved a little for plot/flow reasons or kept it vague where I wasn’t sure. 
> 
> I went with barbells for both Steve and Billy’s piercings as, personally, I prefer them aesthetically to CBR or circular barbells, etc., for these kinds of piercings. 
> 
> I’m honestly not sure what kinds of jewellery were popular or more common in the 1980s, but in an article from Jim Ward (one of the pioneers of the modern body piercing movement in the western world) he mentions adopting barbells from a German tattooist or something. He doesn’t say when but it seems early in his career (which was the ‘70s). 
> 
> He also talks about innovating the technique of the receiving tube (not sure if it was called that then but didn’t know what else to call it) so I feel fairly confident that that would’ve been used by the piercer who did Steve. No idea what kind of piercing parlous existed in Chicago at the time, though…
> 
> I also did as much research as I could for how it feels to have a PA (wrt masturbation/sex) but it seems the consensus was YMMV so I figured I’d just go with whatever I felt like in the end? It was kinda difficult to describe the sensation as most of the forums didn’t describe it outside of ‘it feels incredible’ or ‘it doesn’t feel any different’. And yeah a lot of people said it was more the idea or look of it that made it sexy for them, so I tried to incorporate that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to S for reading this over for me & for the encouragement :) & also thanks to G for the support and encouragement needed for me to even post this at all! :)

‘Truth or dare,’ Billy says, nudging Steve’s knee with his own. It pokes out of the hole in his jeans, frayed threads tangling with his hair.

‘Yeah, no, I don’t think so,’ Steve says.

‘Don’t be a fucking pussy.’ Billy throws a chip at Steve. It lands in his hair. ‘C’mon, man, I’m bored.’

Steve takes a swig of his beer, changes the channel. ‘I’m not playing truth or dare with you.’ He takes the chip out of his hair, looks at it, then shoves it in his mouth with a shrug.

‘Oh, yeah? You too good for it now?’

‘No,’ Steve says, ‘but after last time…’ He trails off, that familiar heat prickling up under his jaw, arrowing down to his groin. Fuck. How long is it going to take before even just the _thought_ of his pierced dick doesn’t turn him on?

‘I still don’t believe you did it.’ Billy gestures with his beer bottle. ‘There’s no way Steve Harrington actually got his dick pierced.’

‘Yeah, you were right, I just paid the guy to pretend I went through with it.’ Steve rolls his eyes.

‘Wouldn’t be surprised.’

Irritation sparks in Steve’s blood. ’What do you want me to do? Whip my dick out and show you?’

Billy snorts but he shifts a little in his seat. ‘Like you would.’

And maybe it’s the beers, or the snotty tone in Billy’s voice. Or maybe Steve has snapped and finally lost his mind. But he unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans.

Billy chokes on his beer. ‘Dude, what are you—’

Steve pushes the jeans down his hips enough that he can draw his cock out of his briefs. He spreads his hands, heart thundering. ‘There you go.’

‘Holy fucking _shit_.’

And, oh, this was a bad idea. A huge mistake. Because between the way Billy is gawking at his dick, cheeks flushed red and mouth hanging open, and the way Steve’s gaze is drawn to the silver barbell, he’s getting hard. Like he always does.

But he didn’t want it to happen, now, because Billy will think—

He’ll _know_.

That Steve…

Steve’s sick. A pervert. Gets hard just from the thought of his dick being pierced.

It feels more intense, though, with Billy sitting right there. Not only because Steve has wanted him for so long—fuck, has he wanted him—but because Billy is looking and—

‘You’re hard,’ Billy says, like Steve doesn’t know.

‘Yeah.’ Steve swallows thickly. ‘I…’ Why hasn’t he pulled his jeans back on? ‘I really like it.’

‘The piercing?’ Billy asks, looking up at Steve. He’s so close. Closer than before. ‘Or exposing yourself?’ He smirks.

Steve flushes. ‘The piercing,’ he mutters. Though, yeah, he can’t deny how hot it is to sit here with Billy looking at him. He’s never shown his body off—any part of it—but he likes the way Billy’s looking at him now. With…hunger.

Oh fuck.

Billy reaches out, then stops. ‘Is it real?’

‘Are you shitting me?’ Steve catches Billy’s eyes with his own and, fuck, another mistake. ‘Do you think I glued some silver balls to my dick, somehow knowing I’d need to prove I got it pierced?’ He shakes his head, starts to tuck himself away.

Billy grabs Steve’s wrist. ‘I wanna touch it.’ He licks his lips. He’s breathing hard. ‘Touch you.’

‘I—’

‘Let me,’ Billy says, and it’s as much a question as he’ll ever ask.

‘Kn-knock yourself out,’ Steve says, voice strangled and then Billy is touching him, thumb pressing to the metal bar, pushing it, and oh. _Fuck_.

It does feel better when someone else is touching it.

Billy’s breath hits Steve’s jaw, hot and damp. He’s leaning over Steve, one hand behind Steve’s shoulders on the sofa, the other curled tight around his dick. Stroking him.

Steve braces a hand on Billy’s shoulder, his breath coming fast, as Billy moves his hand. He can’t stop looking at his cock slipping through Billy’s fist, the way Billy’s thumb presses into the barbell, thinking how it feels so much better than Steve ever dreamed it would.

It’s not long before Steve comes, spilling over Billy’s fist with a short groan.

Billy looks up at Steve then, their faces so close Steve can feel Billy’s quick breaths, and licks his hand clean.

‘Shit,’ Steve says. He follows the motion of Billy’s tongue over his hand, then darts his gaze to Billy’s lap. ‘You want me to—’

Billy doesn’t answer, just swings his leg over Steve’s thighs, and pulls Steve’s hand to press against the front of his jeans. His hips buck into the touch.

‘ _Shit_.’ Steve scrambles at Billy’s belt and fly, sinks his hand into Billy’s briefs. Jerks Billy off with quick, short strokes, gripping Billy’s ass tight with his other hand.

‘Fuck, Harrington,’ Billy says. He presses his forehead to Steve’s as he comes, one hand fisted in Steve’s hair. His breaths are short and ragged.

Steve pulls back so he can look at Billy. ’You wanna go to my room?’ he says.

Billy grins.

—

‘Why is that mirror at the end of your bed?’ Billy asks from beneath Steve, craning his neck.

Steve pauses, hand shoved up Billy’s shirt, thumb poised over a nipple. He glances back over his shoulder, pulse quickening at his— _their_ —reflection. ‘Um…’

Billy licks his lips. There’s a wicked gleam in his eyes. ‘Do you watch yourself fucking?’

‘I haven’t been with anyone since—’ Steve stops, realises what he’s admitted. 

‘You watch yourself, huh?’ Billy pushes up, so Steve is kneeling over him and Billy is looking over Steve’s shoulder. He runs his hands down Steve’s back, settling them on his ass, then looks back to Steve. ‘That’s hot.’

Heat rises to Steve’s cheeks. ’It’s weird.’

‘I do it all the time.’

‘You…watch yourself?’ Steve asks. ‘Jerking off?’

Billy shrugs one shoulder, like it’s completely _normal_.

But it settles something in Steve, something that’s been clawing at him for weeks, as much as it turns him on. 

‘I wanna watch you,’ Billy says, giving Steve this hot look from under the dark fan of his lashes.

Steve’s stomach flips. ‘What?’

Billy pushes at Steve’s shoulders, urging Steve to turn around. He presses himself against Steve’s back, hot, catching Steve’s gaze in the mirror. ‘I wanna watch you’—his breath tickles Steve’s neck—‘watch yourself.’

‘I—’ Steve swallows thickly. He looks at Billy through his reflection and it doesn’t look like Billy’s fucking with him. Billy looks earnest—eyes wide, watching Steve carefully—and every bit as turned on as Steve feels. ‘OK,’ Steve says.

Billy grins. ‘How do you like to do it?’ He licks along Steve’s neck, a slow stripe from the juncture of his shoulder, to the edge of his jaw. At Steve’s confused shake of his head, Billy says, ‘Clothes on or off?’

‘Either,’ Steve says. ‘I don’t…I mean, I don’t really care about looking at the rest of myself, I guess?’ His heart thunders.

‘Just like looking at your dick, huh?’

Steve flushes. ‘I—’

‘Don’t blame you,’ Billy says, winking at Steve through the mirror.

It steels something in Steve and he looks up at Billy and says, ‘What do you want?’

‘Clothes off.’

Steve’s stomach swoops and he nods. He shrugs his shirt off, Billy watching his reflection. He slides his jeans off with trembling hands, Billy’s touch warm on his shoulders, and pushes his briefs down. 

It’s the first time in a long while he’s been completely naked in front of someone else. And it was never like this before.

Behind him, Billy shifts, until he’s got his knees either side of Steve’s hips, denim rough on Steve’s naked skin. Billy reaches around, runs his hands down Steve’s thighs, then pulls until Steve’s legs are spread.

Steve breathes heavily, catches Billy’s gaze in the mirror again. It’s dark and hot, blue eyes swallowed by the black of his pupils. 

Steve shifts in place, eyes scanning down his own reflection. It’s like he’s seeing himself for the first time, with Billy there behind him. 

And it’s so strange to be exposed like this—he’s never shown off for his lovers, usually revels in looking at _them_. So to be looked _at_ , especially by Billy, who Steve knows loves to be looked at himself, is…

Well, it’s a lot.

‘Do you just stare at yourself until you come or what?’ Billy says, breath hot over Steve’s neck.

Steve huffs. He doesn’t say anything, just takes himself in hand, thumb going right to the silver bar through his cock. His eyes flutter and a breathy moan works its way out of him. 

‘Eyes open.’

‘Fuck, you’re bossy,’ Steve says, but he doesn’t mind. It’s nice, in a way, not to have to think about what to do.

‘I think you like it,’ Billy says, all cocky assurance.

But when Steve opens his eyes and looks up at Billy’s reflection, he sees uncertainty there. So he gives a small nod, and says, ‘So, tell me what to do,’ resting back against Billy’s chest.

Billy chews on his bottom lip, then says, ‘Whatever you usually do.’

‘Yeah, OK,’ Steve says, and starts moving his hand over his cock.

He hisses in a breath, hand tightening, movements quickening. He used to like to take his time, before the piercing, but since the first time he jerked off _after_ , he’s been fuelled by urgency every time he’s touched himself. He’s been trying to find a balance and, oddly enough, with Billy watching him, he manages to slow down. Like he’s putting on a show. 

But that’s exactly what he’s doing.

The thought is dizzying and Steve’s breath catches on a moan. He runs his free hand up his chest, resting it at the base of his throat. 

‘Shit,’ Billy says, breath warm on the side of Steve’s neck.

Steve looks up, catches Billy’s gaze. His heart beats faster. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, arches his back, fucking up into his fist. 

‘You really like this, huh?’ Billy’s eyes flit between Steve’s cock and Steve’s own eyes. ‘Being watched?’

‘Yeah, but—’ Steve shifts, sheets sticking to his thighs. Sweat beads on his skin and he feels feverish. ‘I didn’t know—’

Billy moves, erection pressing against the small of Steve’s back. His eyelids flutter when Steve pushes back, his breath going that little bit more ragged. His hand disappears between them, must be squeezed around his dick if the look on his face is anything to go by.

‘Don’t,’ Steve says.

‘What?’

‘I wanna take care of that.’

‘ _Shit_ ,’ is all Billy says, but he moves his hand back to where Steve can see it. Rests it on Steve’s shoulder. ‘If you come now, can you come again?’ He licks his lips. ‘Like…soon?’

Steve is getting so close and his brain feels fuzzy but he manages to nod. ‘Yeah, I— I think so.’ He pushes up into his hand, rests the other on Billy’s thigh. Needs something to ground him. ‘I came three times one night.’

‘Fuck.’ Billy leans close, snaking his hands around Steve, running them along his chest and stomach. ‘I wanna see you.’

Steve moans, a ragged broken thing, and moves his hand quicker. He presses his thumb to the piercing, and then he comes, vision sparking, head swimming.

‘Holy fucking shit,’ Billy says, ‘that was so hot.’ 

Steve nods, sweat sheening his skin, lets Billy hold him.

Billy reaches down to take Steve’s hand and, keeping his eyes locked with Steve’s, brings it to his mouth and licks it clean.

‘Ngh,’ Steve manages. He turns his head, pressing it to Billy’s shoulder. ‘Are you trying to kill me?’

‘Not yet,’ Billy says, on a laugh. ‘Want you to fuck me first.’

Steve turns to Billy, then, has to look at him not through a reflection. He scans Billy’s face. ‘Yeah?’

Billy nods. The blue of his eyes is barely a sliver with his pupils blown wide, and there’s a flush high on his cheeks.

‘Fuck, yeah, OK.’ Steve gets onto his knees, tugs at Billy’s shirt. ‘Guess you’d better take this off.’

Billy grins and takes off his clothes, throwing everything over the side of the bed. 

Steve takes a moment to appreciate the sight of Billy naked in his bed—arms stretched above his head, those fucking nipple piercings glinting in the warm light—then crawls on top of him, pushing Billy’s hands into the mattress.

Their tongues touch before their lips do, the kiss hot and filthy and fucking perfect. Steve slides one hand down between the press of their bodies, curls it around Billy’s cock. Billy’s slick with precome, wet for Steve; Steve tightens his hand.

Billy moans and hooks one leg around Steve’s, thrusting up into his fist, pulling Steve closer.

‘I’ve wanted this for so long,’ Steve says.

‘Yeah,’ Billy says, panting against Steve’s mouth. He tips his head back as Steve kisses his neck. Fists his hand in Steve’s hair. But then he says, ‘Wait, not like this.’

Steve pulls back. ‘I thought—’

‘I wanna watch us.’

Steve swallows thickly, then he nods. ‘Yeah, me too.’

Billy kisses him again and then they shift around, awkwardly because neither wants to stop touching the other, until Billy is on his stomach, hands fisted at the foot of the bed.

Steve nudges Billy’s thighs apart with his knees and leans over him, curling his hands over Billy’s shoulders. Presses his thumbs into Billy’s skin. He looks at Billy’s face in the mirror—his bottom lip is caught between his teeth and he’s looking back at Steve with heat—and his stomach swoops. 

They’re actually going to do this.

Billy’s skin is mostly smooth under Steve’s palms, only the bump of a scar here, one there, marring the expanse of his back.

When Steve’s touch lingers too long on one, Billy tenses, and Steve moves his hands away. Steve runs them up and down Billy’s back, before bringing them to a stop just above the curve of his ass. His thumb presses into the dip at the base of Billy’s tailbone.

Billy wriggles, pushes his hips back. ‘Thought you were gonna fuck me, not give me a back rub.’

‘Jesus Christ, you’re impatient,’ Steve says.

‘Yeah, well, I wanna make sure you fuck me before you shoot your load again.’ Billy catches Steve’s eye and gives him a devilish wink. ‘You really gotta work on your stamina.’

Steve swats Billy’s ass. ‘Hey,’ he says, ‘I remember you lasting about ten seconds when I jerked you off downstairs.’

‘Whatever,’ Billy says. ‘Just fucking do it.’

Steve huffs then moves his hands so they’re splayed over the swell of Billy’s ass. Soft hairs and goosebumps tickling his palm. He’s never been with a guy before but there was a girl once—a woman, really—who liked it this way. So Steve has some idea of what he’s doing. 

But it feels new, again, with Billy.

Steve sucks his fingers into his mouth, watching Billy watch him in the mirror, then lifts Billy’s hips and presses his fingers inside.

A soft grunt escapes Billy and he furrows his brow.

‘OK?’ Steve asks. 

‘Yeah.’ Billy shifts. ‘You got any vaseline or something?’

‘Oh, yeah. Sorry.’ Steve slides his fingers out. ‘Did it hurt?’

‘No, just—’ Billy cuts himself off. ‘Get the fucking vaseline.’ His lips are tilted again and he’s looking up at Steve with twinkling eyes.

Steve shakes his head and goes to the bathroom, finds the vaseline and comes back. It takes him less than a minute but it feels like forever. He gets back on the bed and dips his fingers into the jar. ‘Ready?’

Billy nods.

Steve presses his fingers back inside, twisting them, easing them out, then back in again. When he brushes something Billy jolts, breath catching. 

‘Did I hurt you?’

‘No,’ Billy says, ‘do it again.’

So Steve does. Again. And again. Twisting his fingers until Billy is pressing back, breathless and flushed. 

‘Harrington,’ Billy says, voice low and rough, ‘that’s— that’s enough.’

‘You sure?’

‘ _Yes_.’

A pleased grin tilts Steve’s mouth. His heart beats hard behind his ribs. He pulls away, then turns to fumble in the bedside table for a condom, tearing the packet open with trembling hands, and rolling it onto himself. He braces a hand on Billy’s hip, using the other to guide his cock as he presses slowly into Billy.

Billy sucks in a breath, tensing up.

‘Relax,’ Steve says, rubbing a hand over the small of Billy’s back.

‘Easy for you to say,’ Billy grits out. But he takes another deep breath and the tension slowly drains from him.

Steve rocks his hips forward, easing in slowly, until he bottoms out. It’s fucking incredible, Billy hot and tight around him. ‘Billy,’ he breathes, running his hands down Billy’s thighs.

‘You can move,’ Billy says.

‘Hm?’

‘Move, damn it.’

‘So fucking’—Steve pulls back, slowly, thrusts forward—‘impatient.’ He rolls his hips. ‘Does it feel different?’

‘Huh?’

‘With the piercing?’

‘I— I don’t know,’ Billy says. He’s got one hand twisted in the sheets, clenched tight. ‘Never done this—’ He breaks off with a strangled breath.

Steve stills. He looks Billy’s reflection in the eye. ‘You’ve never…’

Billy shakes his head. He reaches behind him and grabs Steve’s hip. ‘Don’t stop.’

But Steve can’t think of anything except how he’s the _first_. He’d thought… ‘Fuck.’ He squeezes the base of his dick so he doesn’t come from the thought alone or the way Billy’s hips are moving in little circles, urging Steve to move again. ‘Wait,’ he says, swallowing thickly, ‘do I need the condom?’

‘What?’ Billy catches Steve’s gaze in the mirror. ‘I guess not.’

‘Can I take it off?’

‘Whatever,’ Billy says, ‘just don’t stop.’

‘Billy.’ There’s a ringing in Steve’s ears and heat thick in his throat but he has to get a proper answer. ‘Can I take it off?’

‘Fucking hell, Harrington,’ Billy says. ‘Yes!’

So Steve slides out, long enough to remove the condom and fling it somewhere, and then pushes back into Billy. He’s never been with anyone before without one and, fuck, he didn’t think it would make this much difference. 

‘Fuck, you feel so good,’ Steve says.

‘Yeah,’ Billy grunts, and then says, ‘harder.’

Steve snaps his hips, getting a satisfied noise from Billy, and does it again and again.

There is the slap of skin against skin, their moans and sighs, the bed softly creaking. Steve’s focus narrows to the feel of Billy around him and under him, the salt-tang of sweat on his tongue, and just Billy, Billy, Billy.

It’s all incredible. Fucking amazing. But there’s something more he wants. Steve glances up and he can see Billy’s face but— 

‘Wanna see all of you,’ Steve says.

‘What?’

‘I—’ Steve slides an arm beneath Billy, wrapping it around his chest, and pulling until he’s on his knees, thighs spread across Steve’s lap. ‘Can we do it like this?’

‘Yeah,’ Billy says, shifting until he’s settled properly. ‘Yeah, fuck, that’s good.’ He rises up and sinks back down; Steve takes the hint and starts moving again.

It’s kind of weird and they lose their rhythm a little at the start until they’re moving in sync again. Steve can get so much deeper like this, with Billy’s weight bearing him down onto Steve’s cock.

They’re both watching themselves in the mirror and Steve can finally see all of Billy. The sweat glistening on his skin, his scars and tattoos, the bars in his nipples, his cock hard and curving toward his belly, his balls drawn up tight.

Steve swallows thickly, hips rolling as he fucks Billy, and thumbs one of Billy’s nipples. Flicks the bar, tugs at it. 

Billy lets out a low groan and reaches a hand behind him to grip Steve’s thigh. He fists the other in Steve’s hair and turns to kiss him. It’s sloppy and it’s brief because he can’t seem to keep his eyes off their reflection.

‘Can you feel it?’ Steve asks. His head swims; he noses along Billy’s neck, relishing the scent of him. ’The piercing?’

Billy nods. ‘I think so.’

‘Fuck.’ Steve’s hips stutter.

‘You close?’ Billy asks.

‘Yeah,’ Steve breathes, ‘so close.’

‘Then come,’ Billy says.

Steve’s hips snap up faster and faster and then he comes. Deep inside Billy. Biting down on Billy’s shoulder. He nearly blacks out, his orgasm hits him that fucking hard. ‘Fuck. Billy.’ He’s holding on tight to Billy, arm around his waist, pulling him flush against his chest as he slumps back.

Billy’s thighs spread further across Steve’s; he’s still got one hand on Steve’s leg and he’s jerking himself off, fucking up into his other hand. It’s not long before he comes too, head falling back against Steve.

They stay like that, slumped and sticky with sweat, until Steve isn’t sure he can hold himself up, anymore, let alone both of them. He pushes at Billy so he can disentangle himself, then flops back onto the bed.

Billy falls beside him, the back of his hand touching Steve’s. ‘Holy shit, Harrington,’ he says. ‘You’ve been holding out on me.’

Steve manages something that passes for a laugh and tries to say, ‘So have you.’

‘I’m not gonna walk for like a week.’

‘Yeah.’ Steve shifts his legs to make sure they’re still there.

Billy huffs a laugh and turns his head. ‘We’re gonna have to work on your stamina, though,’ he says.

‘Fuck off,’ Steve says, but he’s smiling.

‘Mm.’

Beneath the content fuzziness in his brain, uncertainty tugs at Steve. He manages to roll onto his side. He presses his lips together. ‘That mean you want to do this again?’

Billy’s brow furrows. He slides his gaze to Steve and shrugs one shoulder. ‘If you want.’

‘Yeah,’ Steve says, then leans over Billy and kisses him. 

It’s not fuelled so much by lust, now, and it makes a different kind of warmth wash through Steve. He pulls away, runs his hand over Billy’s face. The way Billy is looking at him takes his breath away and he has to settle on his back, staring up at the ceiling, to catch it.

Billy makes a soft, pleased noise beside him, and nudges Steve’s shoulder. ‘Hey,’ he says, pointing up, ‘ever thought about getting mirrors up there?’ 

‘On my ceiling?’ Steve looks at Billy, stomach flipping at that same look from before. ‘I think my mom might notice.’

Billy hums. ‘You know, there’s a motel just out of town that has a room with a mirrored ceiling.’

‘ _What_?’ Steve screws his nose up. ‘And how do you know about this motel?’ At Billy’s grin, Steve says, ‘Wait, don’t tell me. Gross.’ 

‘So you don’t wanna go there?’

’I didn’t say _that_.’

That gets a laugh from Billy, deep and rough and free. It makes Steve’s heart beat.

They fall into silence and Steve is thinking about moving so he can take a shower—he doesn’t think it will take much to coax Billy to take one with him—when Billy says, ‘What does it feel like?’

‘What?’

Billy’s gaze flicks down to Steve’s cock, where it rests against his thigh. ‘Having your dick pierced.’ He rolls onto his side.

‘Oh.’ Steve shifts until he’s facing Billy. He tucks one arm beneath his head, rests the other on Billy’s hip. ‘Fucking awesome.’

Billy’s eyes darken. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ Steve runs his gaze down Billy’s body, lingering on his cock. He reaches out, runs the back of his fingers along it. Billy twitches. Steve’s lips quirk. ‘Maybe you should find out for yourself.’

Billy grins. ‘Maybe I should,’ he says, and pushes Steve down and kisses him hot and deep and slow.

—

The shop looks exactly like Steve remembers but, this time, as he steps inside, his heart is hammering in his chest from excitement rather than nerves.

Nick is there again and his eyes light up in recognition when he sees Steve and Billy. ‘Hello,’ he says, moving out from around the counter. He crosses his arms and says, ‘What can I do for you boys, tonight?’

Billy flounders. He looks at Steve, eyes wide and uncertain but _trusting_.

So Steve slings an arm around his shoulder and says, ‘My boyfriend here wants to get his dick pierced.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :) I was going to come off anon but I'm too anxious for some reason but I wanted to thank everyone who commented on/read the first part! Anonymous or not I appreciate them all and reply to each and every one :) And, um, yes, thanks again for reading <3
> 
> ETA (October 2020): so, as implied above, this was originally posted anonymously because I felt like it was too different to my usual fic and I didn't want to alienate my usual readers, nor disappoint new readers who might be looking for more of the same. And, honestly, it felt a bit too revealing and I was shy. But I've finally decided that it's not any more revealing than some of my other fic, and I may as well have my name on it as not! 
> 
> And, if you want, you can find me on tumblr [@gothyringwald](https://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
